


Spinning Records, Playing Hearts

by orphan_account



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-17 06:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Seeing colours where other people hear sounds - that's just what it's like to be Hwang Minhyun.What he sees when Ong Seongwu appears in his life is nothing like he expected and better than he could have ever imagined.





	Spinning Records, Playing Hearts

_It’s yellow, always yellow._

That was what Jisung’s voice felt like to Minhyun - a bright, golden cast that lent warmth to whatever he said.

Jihoon, though.

EmNet Radio’s new intern spooked him a little. That first day they met, his voice was bright and brimming with the lightest and most delicate of pinks.

Until it wasn’t.

Minhyun would know when Jihoon was in a mood when suddenly the pink was gone - a dark, almost inky blue in its place.

“You all right there, Minhyun?” _Pink_. At least Jihoon was in a good mood today.

Minhyun smiled, nodding. He had just finished the final draft for the script of the next edition of _Midnight Tales_ \- on time as always. Jisung said once, in all his years as a programme director, he’d never had a writer as good at deadlines as Minhyun.

It was an easy enough gig - _Midnight Tales_ was an unusual format for a late night radio show.

Usually it’d just be someone talking, fielding the odd call and spinning music. But to liven things up, they decided to have a weekly session where the DJ would play storyteller for awhile.

Ghost stories, those were popular.

Sometimes they’d be old legends, retellings of classic stories and maybe the odd ‘true story’ of a romance, chance encounter or funny incident.

It all depended on what colour he felt like bringing to paper. Words by themselves didn’t really evoke colour to him - not until they were spoken out loud.

Then his senses would wake and suddenly a palette would appear, with the voice of the speaker permeating the words with its own tonality.

Their last host had retired. Pity. Minhyun liked the man’s voice; it was quiet and soothing - sandy. The stories swirled in front of him like shifting, colourful sand.

It hadn’t been easy finding a replacement and they’d tried out a few, but none had really gelled quite well with his writing.

One had a voice that permeated everything he said with a deep, dark red. Maybe if all they’d told were horror stories he might work out. Another coated his words with a dour, depressing grey.

Minhyun was lucky Jisung found his colour-sight more a boon than anything.

“It must be really interesting seeing the way you do,” he’d exclaimed, with so much sincerity it was as though the room was glowing with it.

“If only you knew,” Minhyun answered, smiling.

Today, however, he was slightly apprehensive. The higher-ups had gotten impatient with their slow pace at hiring – there were only so many re-runs they could do and listeners were starting to complain.

They’d somehow pushed through a replacement, someone who’d come highly recommended from the graduating batch of a broadcasting degree programme.

“He’ll be put on probation. If he doesn’t work out, you’ll at least have time to look for a replacement while letting him just warm up the slot for a bit.”

That was how the management put it but it didn’t make Minhyun feel any better.

Just what kind of vocal colour would the new guy bring? Minhyun had usually been on hand at shows to be a source in case things needed tweaking last minute or if there were things the host might want to add or embellish.

Truth be told, he was slightly dreading just how tonight’s session would go.

He’d decided to go with something fairly innocuous, a treatise on coping with loneliness.

Jihoon, the snarky little sod, had taken a peek at the script and said, “Speaking from very personal experience, hyung?”

Minhyun had mumbled something along the lines of ‘none of your business’ while Jisung had tried very hard not to laugh.

Then he heard it, or rather, saw it.

A "Hello".

It was as though a sparkler had popped into his field of vision - a dancing, iridescent bit of light.

When Minhyun turned to the source of the greeting, he saw an entirely-too-good-looking-to-be-real young man standing in the doorway.

"Ong Seongwu, reporting for duty!" Said young man saluted, cheeky grin showing he had slightly protruding but ever-so-adorable eyeteeth.

It wasn't so much that Seongwu was stupidly handsome; it was what else Minhyun saw when Seongwu made the slightest sound.

His voice didn't make one colour; there wasn't just one shade.

_Everything was shiny_. Ong Seongwu, to Hwang Minhyun, was a human disco ball.

_He fucking glittered_.

And that was right about when Minhyun realised he was utterly, and totally, fucked.

How did that first night go? It was probably the best, and worst, night of Minhyun's life.

Seongwu was great, brilliant, even. He was confident, well-rehearsed and he had the kind of tone that carried well on air. There was a light, breeziness to his voice that made it soothing and easy to listen to.

For Minhyun it felt like he was watching a light show. Seongwu's voice was anything but monotonous - he played around with pitch and tempo and what Minhyun saw was just as varied.

Sometimes, it was just a muted glistening and at certain parts he'd see dancing bits of light.

It was enthralling.

So thus began Minhyun's quest to see just how Seongwu would interpret his scripts.

While other DJs had outcomes he could predict, with Seongwu it was like having a new experience every day.

It felt like the early days all over again. When he was still figuring out writing, trying out different styles, and engaging in fun word play.

The headiness of waiting for reactions, for feedback and knowing just when a particular turn of phrase was actually really good.

Ghost stories were fun - Seongwu would light up Minhyun's senses like a Halloween display.

Love stories? Glowing candlelight. Comedy routines? Flashing, dancing bulbs.

Minhyun was pretty sure Seongwu could read the phonebook and still have it feel like his own, private light show.

He’d begun to daydream about what it would be like to hear Seongwu _sing_.

Next thing Minhyun knew, he was drafting the show’s first ever musical-themed episode.

Seongwu was his own private drug and all Minhyun had to do was keep writing for his weekly fix.

"Wow, you're even quicker with your scripts than usual!" Jisung exclaimed, pleased.

Minhyun's output was practically prolific - where once he'd have 2-3 backups for a show, now there was a veritable stack just waiting for Seongwu to choose from.  
  
Still, he'd noticed Jisung giving him funny looks lately as the stack kept getting higher. And higher.

When Minhyun had passed him the musical episode script, it looked as though Jisung’s eyebrows were defying gravity - at the rate they threatened to rise and become one with his hair.

Jisung had opened his mouth as though to say something, but then looked at the pile of scripts already on the table. 

Instead he smiled and added it to the stack.

Along with a rise in Minhyun’s output, there had also been a spike in ratings. So perhaps he didn’t want to jinx it.

Minhyun wondered why Jisung’s usual golden glow was tinged with a funny pink. But the thought passed, fleetingly.

He was already dreaming up his next script. Maybe, a Western? Or would Seongwu be interested in a script with giant robots? The ideas wouldn’t stop coming.

Jihoon, however, hadn't been his usual snarky self lately. Usually, he'd take the effort to look through whatever script was going to be read and give the odd little aside.

Instead he'd been giving Minhyun little glances. Lips pursed. And what slightly unnerved Minhyun was that he would not say much besides the occasional "Hmm".

And leaving murky indigo trails in his wake.

Until one night, Minhyun had gotten into work a little early and there Jihoon was.

Waiting.

"I figured it out."

The young boy's smile made him look like the cat that had swallowed the canary.

And the goldfish. And the roast chicken for dinner.

"Figured what out?" Minhyun said, trying not to seem bothered.

"It gets you off."

Minhyun was gobsmacked. Not what he was expecting, at all. "What the..."

"Seongwu's voice _turns you on_.

"That's why you get so excited about writing scripts and you come so early for the sessions, as if you don't ever want to be late."

Jihoon was snickering, the little bastard.

"Even Jisung, Jisung who's usually too busy managing the studio during the run noticed. What was that word he used about the expression you had on your face? Oh, yeah. _Whipped_."

"It's n-not..." Minhyun was stuttering. He _never_ stuttered.

Making a dismissive gesture at the older boy, Jihoon proceeded to walk out.

"Maybe you could try writing him a text one of these days, and not just scripts to read?"  
  
Was he really that obvious?  
  
Minhyun could feel the flush creep up his neck, the burning sensation of his ears turning red. If Jihoon could see the effect Seongwu's voice had on him, could Seongwu...

"Is it true?"

Satan was real and his name was Seongwu.

"Does my voice make you want to do naughty, naughty things?"

There was Minhyun's greatest weakness, and it happened to be dressed in great jeans and a fitting white top that should be declared illegal.

"It's...not quite like that. I have..."  
  
"Synaesthesia." Seongwu smirked. "I know. Jisung told me."

_Traitor_. Minhyun had preferred to keep it from the DJs, at least until he was comfortable enough to tell them himself.

"Wasn't his fault. I just noticed that sometimes, when I'm reading, you'd keep your eyes closed. And you'd look so blissed out, man."

"So I asked him," Seongwu continued.

Minhyun also noticed that as Seongwu talked, he was getting closer.

Until he was right there, in front of of Minhyun. Just barely a breath between them.

"What do you see, when I say what you write?"

Seongwu's tone was curious and to Minhyun, like the glow of distant headlights.

And like a deer, he was caught in that light.

"Light. All kinds of light."

Minhyun's answer was barely above a whisper, making Seongwu lean in even closer.

"And what do you see now?"

Satan was talking, demanding Minhyun's soul.

"I...don't have the words for it."

There was that smile again.

”I should thank you for all the effort you put into the show. It’s thanks to you I have great material.”

Minhyun could feel his ears burning. “No, you give me too much credit. You just make everything I write sound better than it is.”

”So modest. I really do like your writing,” Seongwu’s face was alight with sincerity and Minhyun was caught in the soft moonlit glow he was seeing in his mind.

”Thanks, Seongwu,” Minhyun could feel his neck catching up whatever heat was setting his ears on fire.

"I'm going to stop talking now, as I'd really like to kiss you."

"If that's OK." Seongwu's whisper was a promise, like the distant light of stars.

The only sounds after that was Minhyun's answer, and the quiet sighs in between kisses.

He couldn't remember, afterwards, what he saw right then but he didn't need to.

Every day with Seongwu, he knew, there would be fireworks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this, it was fun to write. MVP awards to all the supporting characters (ILU forever Jisung).
> 
> As to why I chose the colours: My personal headcanon is that to Minhyun most people have a primary colour, but as most people aren't one-sided, also have their own secondary or 'shadow' colour.   
> Jihoon is very dual-natured so he alternates between light and dark - dorm Jihoon/jeojang Jihoon, right?   
> For Jisung, he's usually sunny personality-wise but when he's holding himself back or trying to keep something secret, a little pink creeps in. Some people have 'tells' - a shift in volume or tempo so this Jisung would be a terrible poker player. Minhyun could probably tell he's bluffing when he talks.  
> Minhyun is just too distracted by colour, blinded in fact to his own creeping attraction but Ong's just too dazzling who can blame him?


End file.
